


Plaything

by aishahiwatari



Series: Trektober 2019 [26]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bloodplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Come Swallowing, Exhibitionism, First Time, Humiliation, Kneeling, M/M, Mirror Universe, Murder, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Possessive Behavior, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Scratching, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 16:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21200981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishahiwatari/pseuds/aishahiwatari
Summary: It's weeks later that Jim cements his claim for the benefit of everyone else.Bones has been accompanying him to the Bridge, just for the last few days. He's not quite ready to be alone in Med-Bay yet, but he’s becoming a familiar face for much of the crew. Right now, he kneels at Jim's feet, staring at the view screen like it's personally offended him, offering his opinion when Jim asks for it.He's well trained in that regard, even if he speaks through gritted teeth because of the ache in his knees, the pain of his new uniform shirt putting pressure on the fingernail scratches adorning his back.A sequel to Pet.(for day 26 of Trektober 2019, prompt: Humiliation)





	Plaything

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Mirror!verse fic. Heed the tags.
> 
> This is non-consensual at all times.

The first time's important. Jim knows that. Bones has proved it. And Jim might be impatient, but this is gratifying, too, pushing Bones' legs apart and pulling his ass up so he's presented, perfectly, for Jim's gaze and the exploratory touch of his fingers and the first slow swipe of his tongue.

Bones gasps and flinches like he'd expected it to hurt. Like Jim might have shoved right in and just held him down, listening to his screams for as long as it took him to adjust and quiet.

Hmm. Plan for another time, maybe. But this, the first, is as important to setting a tone to their future relationship as anything could possibly be. If Bones thinks he can earn this indulgence, the gentle treatment of which Jim has demonstrated he is capable, then he will feel like he has some control over what happens here. He will behave.

And, Jim muses, as he laps and lathes and just begins to ease Bones open, feeling the twitch of muscle against his tongue, this isn't bad. Jim's focused and intent, relentless, and Bones does his best, poor thing, but he's no match for the concerted efforts of Jim and his own body. It feels good, no matter how little he wants it to, and there's no escape.

There's tension in him as he tries futilely to resist, his last stand against what -who- will take him, his teeth gritted, breathing harsh, thighs eventually trembling with the effort of his determination.

Jim's a little impressed. Anybody else might have given up already, but he holds strong even as Jim delves into the soft, sweet insides of him, where he's pink and untouched. Even as his cock drips onto the sheets, relentlessly hard. When Jim checks, sliding a hand up that lovely, toned chest, just lightly furred with hair, his nipples are hard and tight. Jim teases one, a little, feels muscle clutch at his tongue, can't help his own low hum of approval.

Bones sobs. Jim was going to push him down into the sheets, fuck him until he came humping the soft silk of them, enough to prove his submission but ultimately unsatisfying.

Instead he works until every one of Bones' breaths is breathy whine, hitching with his inability to hold them back, until he can fuck his tongue deep with little effort, sliding right through that unresisting ring, swollen as it is, buttery soft. And then he pushes Bones onto his back, and settles once more between his legs.

He can see the fear in Bones' eyes, in the way he struggles to meet Jim's. But Jim doesn't think it's fear of pain, or of the act itself. He thinks it's fear that he'll really, really like it. That he'll want more.

And as Jim lubes and positions himself, presses the head of his cock against that pink, fluttering hole, then presses in, one hand wrapped covetously around Bones' thigh to hold him open- Jim knows they'll both want more.

Bones is hot and tight, body clutching at Jim's cock like it's trying to draw him in. Jim needs no encouragement, but seeing Bones' eyes flutter shut, his mouth fall open, his fists clenching in the sheets like he can't help but love this- fuck, he's perfect.

His chest is flushed, his cock hard and leaking against his belly as Jim bottoms out inside him, buried in that tight heat, more taken himself than he had planned to be by the experience. Bones is captivating, absolutely and undeniably gorgeous. Jim is going to have to make sure nobody touches him, and that he doesn't want anyone else.

He needs to move, has to slowly drag himself out and then slide home again but finds himself unable to look away from the sight beneath him. Bones' eyes are squeezed shut but they fly open when Jim fucks into him hard, and they're shining with helpless tears, the pupils blown, making his gaze dark and intense. His chest heaves. He has long, glorious legs and in his refusal to wrap them around Jim they're splayed wide, somehow still gorgeous and graceful.

Yes, he's utterly Jim's.

He proves it when he comes, sobbing, when he reaches out instinctively as though to pull Jim closer in the moment then stares up at him with wide, guilty eyes as though that isn't what Jim's wanted all along.

And Jim gets a hand underneath Bones' thigh and pushes, opens him up and makes him groan. It means Jim can lean down to see those eyes more closely, to lap at the tear tracks down his cheeks, to whisper in his ear, "You're perfect. Thank you."

It's the resulting shudder, or sob, or rippling aftershock that makes Jim come. He bites down on the muscle of Bones' shoulder, digs fingerprint bruises into his thigh, leaves the first of many marks, spills inside him. Claims him, in both their minds.

-

It's weeks later that he cements it for the benefit of everyone else.

Bones has been accompanying him to the Bridge, just for the last few days. He's not quite ready to be alone in Med-Bay yet, but he’s becoming a familiar face for much of the crew. Right now, he kneels at Jim's feet, staring at the view screen like it's personally offended him, offering his opinion when Jim asks for it.

He's well trained in that regard, even if he speaks through gritted teeth because of the ache in his knees and the pain of his new uniform shirt putting pressure on the fingernail scratches adorning his back. He shifts occasionally, eyes fluttering shut and biting his lip in what Jim has already come to recognise as involuntary arousal. There's come leaking out of him, from his loosened hole, and Jim nudges where he knows the wet spot to be with his booted foot just to make him squirm, admires the shine of the leather when he's done.

He just couldn't resist this morning. He woke Bones up by pushing him roughly onto his front, robustly fingering him until he could take Jim's cock with an animalistic keening sound rather than a scream, and then he fucked him long and slow, pressing open-mouthed, biting kisses to his shoulders and the back of his neck.

Bones came at Jim's murmur in his ear, emptying onto the sheets with a whimper, "I'm yours, Bones. You're everything I need."

He's phenomenal. Jim adores him, reaches out to pet his hair when he's feeling bored and pretends not to notice the way he leans in to encourage the contact, rests his head against Jim’s knee when they approach the end of the shift.

It's interesting to note who stares, who looks intrigued, who sensibly averts their eyes.

The first person who accidentally kicks Bones earns a sullen glare from him and a knife between the ribs from Jim. It sends a pretty clear message.

It would probably send a better one if Bones didn't immediately lurch over to the yeoman with a grumbled, "Damnit, Jim," and start treating her injury. Everyone stares, including the bleeding crew member and Jim, although they're not quite as likely to be doing it while imagining how best to make him pay for that little misdemeanour later.

Or, Jim muses. Now. He could kill any number of birds with one stone, staking his claim and testing the loyalty of the officers on his Bridge.

So he stands, when Bones sends the yeoman off to her next task, right where he would return to his kneeling.

And Bones gives him a look, like he knows to dread what's coming but also there's nothing he can do to fight it, he just hopes Jim will reconsider. Jim pretends to, briefly. Bones looks like he knows that. It’s amazing what can pass between them in just a few seconds.

And when Jim tilts his head, just briefly, towards the captain's chair, Bones' gaze drops. And he shifts and bites his lip.

Fuck, Jim adores him. "Kneel. Face the back."

Bones does it and just the twist of his body, the graceful way he moves so his knees are on the seat, his elbows on the back, the accentuation of the curve of his spine sends a thrill through Jim. He wishes he could enjoy it entirely, has to keep an eye on the rest of the room to check their reactions. Most seem scared to watch, but like they'll try it the moment his attention wavers. A couple seem like they’re considering trying worse, and those are the ones he’s trying to draw out. This is when he has the most to lose, but unfortunately for them it’s also when he’s the most determined to protect.

"Comfortable?" Jim asks, stroking a hand down the line of that spine, over the curve of Bones' rear, lamenting only the leather of the uniform in the way.

And softly, but steadily, Bones replies, "Yes, Jim."

He hangs his head after, like he's ashamed, but Jim's never been prouder. There’s a collective sharp intake of breath across the Bridge, because nobody else is allowed to address him in such a way, and Bones trembles at the reminder of their audience, even as he does his best not to see them.

Jim doesn't have much time for this; they're due out of warp in less than ten minutes and as much as he wants to show off and prove a point he doesn't particularly want to do it on the viewscreen in front of a crew of rogue Klingons.

Bones might, judging by the way he shivers at Jim's touch, the way he's already tenting the front of his pants as Jim eases down his zipper. He bites back a whimper, too, as Jim exposes him to the view of his officers, as anyone at the right angle can see the pink, abused mess of his hole, filled so recently. It could only be better if Jim were able to see his face, the flush of his cheeks and the reluctance in his face even as his body gives his true feelings away.

Bones can't bite back the sound he makes deep in his throat when Jim frees his cock and presses inside of him, though. One of the lieutenants in operations is staring, open-mouthed at the sight he makes, and Jim's feeling particularly vicious today, resentful of Bones’ flagrant disobedience, grabs a handful of Bones' hair to lift his head and better expose him to their view.

It makes the hot, soft vice wrapped around his cock clench tighter. Bones' whole body shudders, but not away from Jim, not towards those wide and watchful eyes. Back onto him, taking him deeper, encouraging more. He wants this, trusts Jim to keep him safe while this happens. Jim has already promised that nobody will touch him, and clearly he believes in that.

Jim knows now too, that a warning will not suffice. Anyone who touches his Bones needs to die instantly.

The thought of that yeoman from earlier bleeding to death from the wounds Jim inflicted makes him harder, drives him deeper, picks up his pace. And Bones takes everything he has to give, makes soft little desperate whimpers like he can't stand it but Jim knows that what he wants is more.

He’s so fucking hot, inside and out. Jim will strip him entirely next time if he misbehaves, anticipates it because he knows he will. Jim has to find the line, that final act that pushes him too far, that changes him from loving this to accepting the discipline Jim's trying to impose. It's going to be immense fun.

For now, he gets a knee on the edge of the seat between Bones', pulls him up by his hair until his back is against Jim's chest, and nips at the shell of his ear until he draws a few precious beads of blood, revelling in the way Bones' body twitches and tightens every time he does. "You don't fix anyone I've injured, you understand?"

Bones snarls. He wants to argue, Jim can feel it. He's a doctor and it's his job or maybe his life to heal. But he's Jim's fucking doctor and he does only what Jim allows him to. Jim gives him three sharp thrusts before he punishes him for his lack of response, claws his fingernails in deep, shuddering lines up over the ridges of Bones’ ribs. It makes him writhe and ripple deliciously, and Jim pushes on the marks, too, presses his now-bloody fingers into Bones’ mouth.

It feels like he considers biting, his teeth almost closing for just a moment, grazing skin without digging in. Jim’s going to get the ring gag out later for that one. Nothing too harsh, just a reminder that only one of them has the power to give pain.

He’s getting close, with the tight, clutching heat of Bones’ body, the thoughts of all they’ll be doing later, but it’s not his come he wants dripping onto the seat of his chair, proof of how much he loves this, how much he belongs here, how little he can gain alone.

Bones has drooled all down his fingers and he wraps them around Bones’ cock, knows he can’t stand up to direct stimulation for long. As much as Jim loves him to come untouched, the deep and primal satisfaction he derives from that, there’s a different one to be found in feeling Bones shudder around him, spurt through his fingers, twitch with how sharp and overstimulating the sensation becomes, too quickly.

He’s always much more agreeable post-coital, though, and when Jim’s fingers push past his lips once more he licks and sucks them clean, tasting and swallowing his own come, unresisting even when Jim pushes in far enough to tease at his gag reflex. The knowledge that his throat is open and ready is what pushes Jim over the edge, makes him snarl and bury deep and empty inside that sweet, soft hole.

Bones is sagging, breathless and useless in that moment but Jim’s sharper than ever, catches sight of movement in his peripheral and comes a little harder at the promise of a fight. One of the science techs is coming at him with a blade, but Jim’s barely got a hand on the phaser in his belt before there’s a flash of fire and the tech crumples, dead.

Bones tenses, clenches hard, stares at the body, doesn’t move other than to let out a shuddering breath and sag forwards, supporting his weight with his hands on the back of the Captain’s chair. Jim’s fingers are still in his mouth, although he pulls them out and wipes them on Bones’ cheek as he turns, impressed, to look at Sulu.

Jim doesn’t know him that well but he’s supposed to be the best damn pilot in the Empire and so he had to have him. And he’s a pretty good shot with a phaser, too, has only turned in his seat to fire, still operating the controls with the other hand, eyes on the viewscreen.

“Thirty seconds to arrival, Captain,” he says, too, calm and steady. Jim doesn’t even have it in him to be annoyed that he’s killed someone who had marked themselves for his own retribution.

“Red Alert,” Jim sighs, pulls out, thumbs idly at the wreck he’s made of Bones hole, barely even has time to appreciate it as the lights begin to flash, sirens sounding. “Clean up your mess,” he says to Bones, too, who looks briefly outraged but Sulu’s got the countdown on the viewscreen now and he clearly thinks better of arguing, just sinks to his knees in front of the chair and licks at the few drops Jim allowed to escape onto the leather.

He can be pretty damn benevolent sometimes.

In the end, Bones fastens his pants, back to kneeling at Jim’s feet just as Jim settles, ready to meet the challenge being issued on his viewscreen.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m also on [Tumblr](https://aishahiwatari.tumblr.com/)


End file.
